


I hear it in the secrets that you keep.

by Dearhistory



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearhistory/pseuds/Dearhistory
Summary: "If I never knew you, I'd be safe, but half as real."where jongin is an open pansexual, and sehun is gay and in the closet.





	I hear it in the secrets that you keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the mods for their endless patience and for hosting such a wonderful fest. To the prompter, I really hope I haven't failed your expectations. I'm sorry if there's any typos, my bad. Without further ado, enjoy!

Sat in the farthest corner of the classroom, Sehun isn’t paying any attention to the lesson, his mind drifting away. He’s looking at the window, his eyes lost high up in the sky whilst his mind is clouded with thoughts. Disparate thoughts. Sometimes, he’s wondering how he is going to endure the rest of the day, and when his eyes are roaming around, never focusing on a specific spot, he always feel this sense of panic surging through him. He mulls over how other people see him. Do they notice? Do they spot how he’s different, how his face is never lighting up, how his smile is strained, how he can’t talk without calculating each one of his own word. Because he just cannot. What if the wrong words slip out of his lips and they notice? What if he acts peculiarly and they glance at him in a funny way? What if… It just clouds his mind, and turns him into a mess. He has to measure everything, from his stare to his way of walking. Because never would they accept if he were to be different. 

That is when he remembers Chanyeol’s words days ago, at Jongdae’s party. He remembers how he had latched Yixing’s wrist and had spat at his face like he was nothing more than just a piece of scum. 

“I bet you thought I didn’t see how you tried to touch my butt, you dickwhore!”

Two other guys were surrounding him, and smirked upon seeing the Chinese’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Yet, he never let them fall and held the taller’s stare on him. Yixing remained silent and wiped his stained cheek, not even backing off when Chanyeol growled at him. He just tore himself away from the latter’s grip and got out of the door, leaving the apartment. 

“Don’t ever come back here, fag!” Chanyeol added, a satisfied smile spreading across his face when he high-fived his friends.

Sehun had felt like throwing up, his eyes stoic and unreadable. A sudden surge of pain jolted in him and almost choked him. The music was still busting, way too loud for them to hear their own voices. Yet, all Sehun could hear, was Chanyeol’s voice. It repeated itself in his mind. ‘dickwhoredickwhoredickwhore _dickwhore_ ’. 

His teacher’s voice is what snaps him back to reality. Sehun blinks his eyes and notices the sudden silence in the classroom. And the tall figure standing at the entrance, sporting an apologetic mien on his face as he makes his way to the last row of tables. Near Sehun, but never beside him. The first thing that hits him is his cologne’s perfume, a fragrance that makes his inner self melt instantly – because that reminds him of so many things. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn’t need to fish it to know who the sender is. 

His lips twitch when another buzz happens, and he has to bite on his lower lip to not let a laughter slip past his lips. He lifts his pencil and shakes it from left to right, gesturing to the sun-kissed boy that he acknowledged him but that he’ll not answer right back. They’re still in class, and he doesn’t want to draw the teacher’s attention on him. Even less the other students’.  
The rest of the lecture flies by fast, as Sehun is being attentive and serious. He knows he has to succeed so that his parents will let him go on that special trip of his on summer. He’s been waiting for so long now, he just can’t ruin everything at the last minute. Therefore, when the bell rings, he hurries to pick up all his things and wends his way out of the room, ignoring the smile Jongin is sending him.

They can’t be seen being friendly with each other. Well, it’s not that Sehun is ashamed of having Jongin as his… whatever they are sharing is named, let’s label it as friend, but he can’t let anyone know how close they actually are. That’s why when he pads his way on the hallway, he makes it a point not to look behind him, where – he knows – is Jongin, following him. He doesn’t take too long before he reaches the rooftop. He used to come here a lot before, when feeling down, when the world seemed not to understand him. But not anymore. The rooftop is where Jongin is, is where they first met, and where he first felt hope. When his eyes met these brown orbs that appeased him. 

Swallowing, he leaned onto the railing and let the wind linger on his skin, the sound of the door being opened behind him dragging him back to reality. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Jongin, they’ve always been doing this. And at some point, Sehun feels guilty, when he’s not surrounded by all the pressure, because Jongin has been nothing but sweet and understanding to him. But, they just… can’t. 

A silhouette comes into view just beside him as he tilts his head sideways. Jongin puts a hand on Sehun’s shoulder and tries for a smile, a smile Sehun never gives back. He just seems way too much tensed to let the stress sip down. It’s not that he’s not trusting Jongin, but sometimes, it’s hard to pretend he’s who he really is. Sometimes, being himself is just not something he wished for. Maybe, if he wasn’t different, he wouldn’t have to hide with Jongin, heck, he wouldn’t even have to talk to him, to need him. Or is he fooling himself? 

“Are you okay?” Jongin asks, a bit worried. 

“Yeah,” Sehun exhales and shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Sehun doesn’t respond to that, his eyes focused on an invisible spot, far away before him. He’s scared of the power Jongin has on him. He doesn’t know why, but being with him appeases him yet that’s something he dreads so much. Why does it have to be like that? He feels his stomach churn and sighs deeply. 

“I’m tired, Jongin…” Sehun finally confesses. “I’m just… tired.”

“I know, and that’s why you have me.”

Jongin comes closer and cradles his face, turning the younger’s face to him so that he can sink his orbs into his. They lock their eyes into each other’s and Sehun swears he feels like drowning. They stay like that for a moment, Jongin closing the gap between their faces. 

The kiss isn’t deep, just his lips hovering over his, lingering like a secret whisper on his skin. Like a promise of never letting him go. And when they part, the promise is still etched to him. Deeply engraved. 

“You can lean on me, Sehun.”

And Sehun knows he can. Because Jongin said so and had always been there for him, always helping him every time he needed him. 

But. 

He rather not. 

He gulps and just shrugs off, like nothing really bothers him when, actually, his chest feels heavy, himself on the edge of throwing up. But he’ll just do like he’s doing every day. Pretend. That is the key.

Sensing as Sehun isn’t about to answer, Jongin chooses not to push any further and squeezes his shoulder, once. Like he always does and leans back, a smile still etched to his face. But still worried. Sehun can see it. Jongin may know him well, Sehun knows him too. And he also knows that no matter what he tells him, Jongin will keep worrying about him. 

“You’re still coming over tonight?” Jongin decides to ask, changing the subject. And Sehun is grateful for that.

“Yeah. I’ll send you a text when I’m on my way.”

“My parents won’t be there.”

The sentence drops between them and Sehun feels his throat running dry. He locks eyes with Jongin and lets the silence seep between them. Heavy and yet comfortable. 

“You can… Stay the whole week end if you want.”

And Sehun wishes he could. He wishes from the bottom of his heart he could remain there, at Jongin’s place, where he feels the safest, the longest time ever. But he also knows it’s futile to wish like that. Because it’s impossible, and he can’t. Humidifying his lips with a swipe of his tongue, he heaves in a deep sigh and smiles ruefully. 

“I already made plans… Sorry.”

Disappointment appears in Jongin’s eyes and that sends a pang to his heart, his chest tightening as guilt weighs down upon him. He hates it when Jongin is hurt, even more when it’s his fault. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I was just, you know, telling you.”

“Yeah, and I feel grateful… You don’t have to do all of this–”

“Of course I have to. I care for you.”

But I’m such a waste of time, Sehun wants to reply, but he can’t. The bell rings and stops him before he utters any word. Jongin, on the other hand, squeezes his shoulder once again and leans in to put a smooch on his cheek.

“Be careful, okay?”

And with a smile, he darts out first. Sehun waits like that, several minutes before escaping the rooftop too. His cheeks haven’t stopped reddening when he rushes over to his class, and neither do they lessen when the lesson starts. He knows he should feel bad about all this, but it’s impossible for him. Jongin has been nothing but sweet to him.

And the sparks of feelings he’s experimenting are too overwhelming for him to deny them.

Not that he wants them to.

Sehun has always liked that Jongin never judged him, being always the same understanding person he has always been. He managed to soothe him, break his walls and get Sehun to open up to him. Maybe he saw trough him too, maybe Sehun wasn’t that expressionless as he thought he was. Or maybe he didn’t have enough strength to push him away. 

He has been lonely for so long… He doesn’t even remember how it feels like to not be surrounded by Jongin. It’s as if Jongin has always been meant for him. And that feeling is just dizzying. A sudden rush of happiness surges inside him and makes it hard for him to focus on the lesson. But he doesn’t care, not that day. That day, he just wants to cherish the memories him and Jongin share. Something he’ll never let go of. 

Jongin is etched to him, and the feeling of knowing that it’s the same for Jongin – that Sehun is deeply engraved to him – makes it less hard for him to sleep at nights. 

Sehun doesn’t believe in soulmates, neither does he believe in destined paths. But he believes in infinity. And maybe Jongin is his own infinity. His way of coping with life and his tragedy. Jongin is everywhere and everything at the same time. Sometimes, Sehun doesn’t have to utter his name that he’s already there. Jongin knows him too well. He knows him better than himself, knows his flaws, his weaknesses, and yet, he didn’t turn his back on him. He never did and promised never would. Sehun is still insecure about the last point, but he has no other choice than believing in him. And he will.

 

 

 

 

 

At the end of the day, Chanyeol is waiting for him at the entrance of his class, a smile spreading across his face. Chanyeol is well known all around the university, captain of the baseball team, funny, musician and Wendy’s boyfriend, the most famous cheerleader of the campus. Chanyeol is nice, doesn’t look down on people. Or that’s what Sehun thought before Jongdae’s party when he witnessed his outburst on Yixing. The latter never hided his sexuality, bisexual and proud of it, not afraid of judgement. How Sehun wished he could voice out his inner doubts, his inner self. 

_That’s me, that’s who I really am._ But he can’t. 

Chanyeol is nice. He really is. But not to people who are different, who doesn’t get it straight in the frame. And Sehun isn’t in that frame, but he pretends to. Pretends to be inside, when, really, he isn’t even bordering on it. However, he’s good at wearing that mask, of that stranger he’s pretending to be. Good at smiling, at feeding everyone lies. Still now, he wonders how Jongin saw through the wall of his hypocrisy. Jongin has never lied, has never had to. 

Setting his jaw, Sehun picks his things up and puts them in his bag before heading to the door when he tries for a smile upon seeing Chanyeol. The latter squeezes his shoulder and starts rambling about his past two days.

“You’re still coming tomorrow night, right?” He asks all of a sudden, tearing Sehun away from his trance.

“Huh?”

“Bud’, the date I’ve found you… Don’t tell me you already forgot.”

Sehun stiffens instantly when the words ring a bell inside of him. Oh god. He totally forgot the reason why Chanyeol wanted him to go out. The date. Holy shit. 

“Wendy is gonna get mad if you don’t show up,” Chanyeol adds, frowning. “You can’t drop out now.”

And Sehun pretends he’s fine, a smile already appearing on his face as he waves his hand in front of Chanyeol’s face, reassuring him.

“Yeah, _that_ date, I remember now. It just slipped out of my mind for a second. But yeah, I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

Chanyeols seems to feel better instantly and smiles. He squeezes Sehun’s shoulder once more and resumes his rambling as he’s assured Sehun won’t give up on him. Inside his mind, Sehun has stopped listening, trying to search for an excuse as to why he can’t go to that date. Can he ask his parents to get his back? He grimaces, they already have plans, and they expected him to be out of the house. Purposely. 

Damn. He’s doomed. 

The face of Jongin appears in his face at that moment but he shakes his head. He can’t escape this bloody situation. Sighing, he tries to tell himself he still can pretend the girl isn’t his type. That’s been his excuse all his life. ‘She ain’t my type.’ And Chanyeol has never stopped bringing more and more girls, trying for several types of girls. Blonde, brown, blue eyes, green eyes, tall, small. _Everything._

But Sehun remains sceptical. Or that is what he tells Chanyeol. But truth is he’s never going to like any of the girls the taller will present to him. However, god knows how hard he tried to like them, with each one of them, he really did. He kissed them, tried to see beyond the fact that his body wasn’t reacting to their closeness. He put all his will in it. To no avail. 

Pretend all he wants, he’s never going to change something that _is_ him, something engraved to him. Yet, something he hides at all costs. 

“…remember?”

Sehun snaps out of his reverie and raises his head up at Chanyeol, having no clue about what the taller was talking about. Frowning, Chanyeol clears his throat.

“Dude… You seem strange today,” he says finally.

“What strange?” Sehun panics instantly. He hasn’t done anything wrong, he made it a point not to talk to Jongin in public. How Chanyeol could have guessed anything? 

“You seem... preoccupied, am I wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

Sehun bites his own tongue at those words because they have never sounded so wrong inside Chanyeol’s mouth. And he knows there is a thin line between Chanyeol’s words and Jongin’s. When Jongin tells him that, he knows he can say everything and not worry about him judging him, not worry about him turning his back on him, or not worry about him telling everyone about his inner doubts. Whereas when it’s from Chanyeol, he feels uneasy, like he knows the taller doesn’t really want to talk about it, more, like he’s just saying that because he has to, not because he means it. Chanyeol doesn’t want to know about how much messed up Sehun feels, how much layers of hate cover him. How even in his cells he’s sick, how in the curve of his body he sweats lies and self-loathing.

So, what he does next? He shrugs and smiles. Sehun is good at smiling, at pretending he’s okay with everything thrown his way. And he has never been seen through, until Jongin. He still remembers how the latter has pointed out his eyes. ‘You look sad, when you smile, your eyes remain so sad.’ Sehun had panicked back then. But that was before. Now, he knows he can let himself open up to him.

“I’m fine, just busy with school stuff.” 

And Chanyeol buys it, because, really, why would Sehun be preoccupied with something else? The taller just smiles and nods, understanding. Himself has been nothing but buried under a ton of homework. 

The walk to their cars gets easier, they find Wendy already standing there, visibly waiting for them, or more precisely for her boyfriend. Sehun turns his face away when Chanyeol leans in and kisses her. He’s not chaste or anything like that, he just… feels uneasy. Not at his right place. 

As he wishes for Jongin to be here and save him, the latter makes his appearance, an arm draped on a boy’s shoulders. Sehun tenses and glances at Chanyeol, then to the guy hugged by Jongin. The latter is whispering something to his friend when they pass by them and seem to slow down just in front of Chanyeol’s car, like he’s provoking him. Jongin is well-known around the campus, one of the most talented dancers of the university, also known at the next Star of the university, one of the things they’re the most proud of. 

Jongin has never hidden about who he really is. Something Sehun always envied and was jealous of. Jongin’s parents don’t expect him to be another person, they love him the way he is and would never give up on him. They showed nothing but support to him. 

Such a contrast to Sehun’s family portrait. 

Swallowing hard, he doesn’t glance in Jongin’s way, ignoring the pang sent to his chest at the view of someone else inside Jongin’s arms – someone that isn’t _him_. He sets his jaw as his lips reduce to a thin line. Chanyeol, beside him, isn’t fairing any better, but it’s for a different reason. He’s looking directly at Jongin and doesn’t lessen the disgust showing inside his eyes, glowing so intently Sehun wonders how can one miss it, how can Jongin still be walking without sensing the other’s gaze on him. It’s as if he’s etched himself to him, burning holes to his back. 

But Jongin doesn’t look at Chanyeol, oh no. 

And somehow, Sehun wished he was the one Jongin laid his eyes on. And yet, he still is the one who told him to ignore his very existence in public. Conflicted. Jealous. He hates it all, how he wants to scream that Jongin can’t let anyone else touch him but at the same time can’t utter a word or glance at him. Because he just can’t. He won’t allow it to happen. 

“Unbelievable.” Chanyeol growls but doesn’t say anything else.

Sehun stares at him and wonders. Would Chanyeol react like this if he were to ever tell him? About his preference? He knows the answer too well but it still hurts knowing how lonely he is in all this.

No, you’re not alone, there’s still Jongin, a little voice tells him. But he can’t have him for his own every time. He’s got the proof just right now. Jongin won’t wait for him, he knows that, but sometimes it’s just too much for him to handle, is all. 

“It’s okay, babe, you have me, don’t bother looking at them.” Wendy chides in and leans in to kiss him. 

Sehun doesn’t really pay them any attention. And wonders, once again. Why aren’t them accepted? Why is it that difficult to understand we can’t all go the way the majority is going? Why does that always generate hate? Watching Chanyeol hugging Wendy, a smile already spreading across his face, like nothing happened, like she’s right, like it can be this way for the rest of their lives. And Sehun still _wonders_.

_Is he going to lie all his life?_

 

 

 

 

 

The blade glides against his skin, smooth and stainless. So white, so clear. Sehun smiles and sees the first droplet sliding his thigh to end up in the bathtub. It’s carmine and it melts so well against the pale skin of his legs. It stings, but it’s a good kind of sting. It just shows how much he’s alive, even though he believes he isn’t. 

Sometimes, he needs to shatter himself to rebuild something new. 

Hurting himself helps him to cope with the heaviness of the mask. He’s not all he pretends he is. And every time he lies, he cuts it a little bit deeper, just so that he can see more of who he is, under the mask. Under the masquerade. It’s all a play, and he’s the leading role of it. Though it’s been a while since he cut himself, he still does it from time to time. Jongin has made it less hard for him, bearing with him the mask. 

When his legs start throbbing, numb from all the cuts, pricking everywhere – but never surpassing the pain inside his chest – he stops. Reluctantly. He wipes all the blood and showers himself and bandages his thighs afterwards. He’s still in pain but he manages to hide it when he escapes his house, wearing enough layers for Jongin not to notice anything. 

 

 

 

 

 

The bell of his door rings and when he opens the door, Jongin seems like he just woke up from a nap. His hair is dishevelled, his eyelids dropping. Sehun inspects his phone and perks up when Jongin just grabs his wrist and pulls him forward, to him. They hug like that, not bothering to part or to close the door to do so. Something Sehun doesn’t feel good about, and it shows with how tense he is inside Jongin’s arms.

He’s never wished for something else, but yet, he doesn’t want it this way. There’s always something catching his attention. Something that can’t let him loose up. Jongin notices and pulls back, before closing the door and offering the other a smile.

“Wanna drink something?” He asks eventually, walking to the kitchen, his hand still holding Sehun’s.

The latter shakes his head.

“As you want,” Jongin shrugs and finally lets go of the other’s hand, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. His lips barely touch the side of the glass that he lifts his gaze and locks eyes with Sehun. “I’m thirsty.”

Sehun can’t help it and _blushes_. Madly. Jongin smirks but doesn’t say anything. 

He hates it when he’s teasing him. Leaning against the counter table, Sehun doesn’t know where to look at, what to say. All he knows is that Jongin is too close to him, yet too far, that his sweatpants is dangerously dropping, revealing his boxers, that his parents aren’t home – so they’re _alone_ – and that Jongin is thirsty. What for? Sehun may or may not want to know. 

“Hum… And so, who were you hanging out with?”

Jongin raises a brow and tilts his head. Silence stretches between them and he gets closer to Sehun, cradling his face like he’s the most fragile thing he’s ever hold. And it’s probably true. His eyes are racking him, seeing through him, through the mask, again, and Sehun can’t decide if he hates it or, in contrary, he loves it. 

“Are you jealous, Sehuna?” 

Sehun finds it hard to swallow, but manages to scowl.

“Why would I?” 

“Because I would be if I were to see you with someone else.”

The tone is grave, dropping several octaves, making hairs on his arms stand on end. Jongin is too close right now, and Sehun can’t think right. Has he heard correctly? Jongin, jealous? Why would he? He has no reason to be. Sehun has no one else except for him. 

“You’re messing with me, right?”

“Am I?”

A smirk, again. And this time, Sehun hates it. Hates that Jongin is playing with him, that he knows he’s the one in command. Leaning in, the older seals their lips together in the gentlest of kiss. A kiss that melts all Sehun’s doubts and self-hate, because for a second, he’s not a mask anymore, he’s Sehun. And Sehun is kissing Jongin. And nothing sounds more melodious than that. Nothing at all. 

Jongin swallows all the moans threatening to spill out of Sehun’s lips and when he pulls back, he’s sporting the most blinding smile ever. He doesn’t realize, maybe, of how much beautiful he is. How perfect he is inside Sehun’s eyes. 

“I can’t believe it’s real.” Sehun lets out. 

“What?”

“Us. In here.”

Jongin keeps mum and frowns, like he’s mulling his words. And Sehun doesn’t know how to interpret himself either. Everything always feels like it’s about to come to an end and he dreads each step taken. Each word spoken. Like it’s the last. Against his cheek, Jongin lets his thumb linger, stroking him gently. Jongin has never been nothing but sweet to him. Patient, even. 

“Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

Sehun gulps and shrugs. He wants to tell him about the date but he can’t. His tongue is stuck inside his mouth. He can’t tell Jongin. 

“I—I… it’s nothing, just school stuff.”

“Oh. But I know you’ll ace everything, like you’ve done every time before.” Jongin smiles. 

And Sehun has no other choice than to smile back. Maybe it’s better like this? Not saying things is not really lying, right? And if he ever were to ask, Sehun would tell him it’s no big deal. That he hasn’t to worry about it. Yet, it doesn’t help him ease, even less swallow the feeling clogging his throat. What Jongin ignores can’t hurt him anyway. Or so Sehun thinks.

“So… What have you planned for tonight?” Sehun asks, clearing his throat.

Jongin pulls away and shrugs. He leans against the counter, beside Sehun, and shrugs again.

“Netflix and chill?” Jongin suggests suddenly, wriggling his eyebrows, which results in Sehun bursting out laughing.

“You wish!”

And with that, he just heads to the living room and slumps onto the couch graceless. Jongin follows him suit, sauntering and collapses on the sofa close by. They remain like that without much of a word, both watching the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever seen. 

“Wow, so much fun.” Jongin deadpans eventually and that draws a laugh out of Sehun. 

“I know, that’s my favourite activity in the world, ceilings are so underrated.”

“Your sense of humour is getting terrible.”

They both let a pregnant pause stretch between them, their eyes still fixated to the ceiling. Their breathing get even and the silence starts feeling soothing. Sehun doesn’t need to utter a word or to rip that silence. And that’s something only Jongin can provide him. Something only Jongin can make him feel. 

Jongin makes him feel _safe_.

Sehun raises his head and glances at Jongin who has his eyes closed. With pursed lips, he slides down from the couch and makes it to the other sofa, laying down beside Jongin’s figure. The latter doesn’t even flinch when Sehun curls up to his side. It’s like an automatism. They don’t have to think about it, and Jongin only wraps an arm around Sehun’s waist and leans in to kiss his hair. 

 

 

 

 

 

Later that night, after eating their dinner, they’re sprawled out on Jongin’s bed, tangled up, looking into each other’s eyes, lost in each other. Drowning in each other’s gazes. Jongin threads his fingers through Sehun’s hair, ever so gently, whilst the younger is bordering on sleep. However, he doesn’t let it get over him and keeps his eyes open, grabs a hold on Jongin’s shirt. Jongin has that faculty to be everything he needs when he’s about to break out. He doesn’t know just _how_ but he’s always there when something is about to shatter inside him. 

“What’s happening in your little mind of yours?” Jongin asks eventually, like he knows. And Sehun has no doubts he does.

“It feels suffocating.” Sehun exhales, his grip on Jongin never lessening. “Holding in, bottling in all those feelings… It just… feels… too… much.”

“Don’t hold back with me, Sehuna, just tell me. Even the slightest thing, you can tell me. I will listen, you know that, right?”

Sehun only hums and leans into the crook of his neck. Jongin’s perfume is comforting, just like the needed blanket during a winter’s night. He’s warm and so, so understanding. 

“If I never knew you, I’d be safe, but half as real.” He murmurs against his skin.

“You’re not half real, Sehun, you’ve never been.” Jongin raises his face up and smiles at him, he makes it a point to lock eyes with him. He wants Sehun to see in his eyes that he isn’t lying. “You’ll never lose me, Sehuna. Never.”

Sehun isn’t convinced, but wants so much to believe in those words, so he just closes his eyes and hums, acknowledging the other’s words. That’s all he can do for now. And it’s enough, for now. 

 

 

 

 

 

“… And then, she was like ‘I ain’t giving you the money back’ like what? Of course I was like ‘you’re giving me back my money, and you do it now.’ Like, uh, who does she think she is?”

Sehun is purely, extremely, entirely bored, to say the least. The girl, Hyemin, if he recalls correctly, hasn’t stopped rambling since they’ve stepped a foot inside that restaurant. And Sehun has never cursed Chanyeol as much as he did that night. And they haven’t even ordered. Is that hell on earth? ‘Cause it hell looks like it. 

On the other side of the table, Chanyeol is listening to Wendy, glancing in Sehun’s direction from time to time, only to notify Sehun’s dark gaze on him. Hyemin hasn’t even noticed that Sehun isn’t listening to her words. Not like she cares about his looks, or the flowers he got for her. 

The date is getting worse than what he thought it would be. But Chanyeol has still some hope, which is not Sehun’s case, who only wants to die or to bury himself deep down. Somewhere no one could find him anymore. 

Sehun struggles to hide his discomfort, even more when the girl beside him grazes her hands against his thigh. Setting his jaw, he can’t help himself and pulls back, crossing his legs so just she could get the hint. And before them, Chanyeol doesn’t seem to miss any of it if the frown settling on his face is any indication. Sehun wants to admonish himself for triggering his mask, his play, but it’s just too much. It doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to keep pretend with those people. Doesn’t want to be someone else but his own self. Not this pathetic façade he’s holding onto in front of everyone. So that they can keep being reassured he’s normal. Just like the world is supposed to be. 

“I—I need to go to the bathroom.” He stutters finally, raising from his chair. 

Hyemin seems surprised for she blinds confused eyes up at him but manages a smile to her lips. Nobody can miss the uneasiness glittering inside Sehun’s eyes. It’s just written on his face, plastered on his forehead even. 

When he escapes and enters the said room, he’s more than relieved to find it voided of any people. That’s all he needs right now. Some space. Some _emptiness_. He makes it to the sink and clutches hard at it. He doesn’t bother watching his own reflection. He knows what he looks like. He knows how much of a liar he is. 

 

 

 

Coming back at the table and pretending nothing happened is quite hard. But Chanyeol can’t seem to hold it against Sehun, maybe the latter is in a bad mood is what he thinks? Sehun will have to find a good excuse for this one. He doesn’t care for the time being, all he wants is for this dinner to end. Beside him, Hyemin has resumed her rambling and he truly wishes he’s dead. Everything’s better than being there. 

Fortunately, Wendy is a hurry and ends up telling everyone that they need to get out of the restaurant to finish the festivities at Soojung’s house where is hold the best party ever. Sehun finds there the good moment to escape his fate and pretends being sick. Coughing and scratching his neck several times. Chanyeol seems sceptical, but Wendy doesn’t care as she just dismisses him. Only Hyemin appears to be pretty much concerned about Sehun’s health and asks to accompany him and make sure he’s safe, and takes his meds. It takes all Sehun’s willpower not to run away and just pretends he’s fine all by himself, that he doesn’t want to bother him, that he would feel guilty to prevent her from going to the party. And Hyemin seems to buy it. And nods, before leaving with Chanyeol and Wendy. 

On that night, Sehun doesn’t sleep well, and keeps wandering in and out of his nightmares. What is he going to say to Chanyeol? It surely can’t go on like this forever, can it? Will come day when everyone is going to see through, right? And what is he going to do when that happens? Run away? Disappear? His finger grazes a little scar near his wrist and he grimaces, recalling the circumstances of that scar. And the reason it’s still there, deeply engraved that even ten years from now on, he’s still going to have it. 

 

 

 

Days pass by in a blur, and Sehun doesn’t see them clearly, still focused on his goal, aiming for it, focusing on his studies and wishing to make it before everything crumble down. He’s worked so hard he doesn’t want it to get destroyed the last minute. He continues seeing Jongin in secret, kissing him, bearing with him his mask, and pretending in front of the others. Pretending to be someone he’s not, and pretending he’s perfectly fine with it. Smiling at his parents and telling them how happy he is and contented. And how he doesn’t want anything to change.

But that’s all a lie. A fucking lie he’s trying to tell himself every morning so that he’ll start believing it. He can do it, that’s what he keeps saying. Every time it shatters, the façade he’s spent years to build, he goes in front of his mirror and repeats it until it’s mechanical for him. Until it’s the only thing his brain can register, until his mind engulfs it and states it as an unshakeable truth. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t have to go that far. Some days are easy for him to pretend, he just smiles and has fun with his friends, and nothing has ever been so simple for him. 

But then, something comes into view and shatters all his confidence. Sometimes, one of them brings the bloody topic of his girlfriend. And suddenly, he feels all cold and tensed. He wishes they would give up with that. But they don’t. They keep bothering him, but never does it occur to them that girls aren’t what he isn’t interested in. Never do they realize that it’s starting to get suspicious. 

Lucky for him they’re that dense. That they don’t see past his poor excuses. Lucky for him until they find out. The later the better. 

 

 

 

Everything was going just fine, with its ups and downs, of course, but nothing Sehun couldn’t handle. But came that day. That party. Those people. That kiss. And all that he dreaded to happen, just rolled in front of his eyes. 

They’re all at Jongdae’s party. And the remnants of bitter feelings it bring to him makes him feel uneasy. Most of them are already dead drunk, except for a minority of them, a minority Sehun’s part of. Chanyeol is making out with Wendy somewhere not far in a corner, and it’s Jongdae who brings up the topic.

“Hey, Hyemin, you’ve told me about your crush on Sehun, right? Why don’t you two just kiss?”

Hyemin blushes but doesn’t seem to be against the idea. Sehun, on the other hand, chokes on his own spit. He wants to throw up but decides against it and frowns.

“Why would we do that in front of you?”

“Oh, please, Sehuna, we all know how much of a prude you are. It’s just a kiss.”

Sehun purses his lips and frowns.

“A kiss,” Jongdae, repeats. “And it’s Hyemin. Chanyeol told us you’ve been getting along you two. Stop pretending and just kiss her.”

“What do you not understand in ‘I don’t want to’?”

He sees the crestfallen face Hyemin is sporting and he instantly feels guilty. He just doesn’t want her to be the joke of this whole sick play. Jongdae loves to tease but Sehun won’t have any of it. Or so, he thinks. But Jondgae is not well-known for being a manipulative jock for nothing.

“Oh, then, you’d rather kiss a boy, I guess? Me, maybe? I volunteer.”

“What—Fuck you, dude, I’m not kissing you.”

“Then, why don’t you just kiss Hyemin?”

“Fucking fine!”

He can see him cackling evilly as he approaches the girl and grabs her not so gently by the waist to draw her to him. He grimaces when she doesn’t even flinch, instead, raises her hands to place them on his neck and tiptoes when he’s leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss is nothing but clumsy. Foreign. And so not what Sehun wants. All he has in mind is Jongin’s plump lips, his bronzed skin and his fingers threading through his hair. For a brief moment, he almost deceives himself into believing it’s him. But the reality is harsh, and when he’s opening his eyes, not only does he feel dizzy and uncomfortable, he also feels like dying. Because he kissed her. 

As if on cue, he raises his head, and his eyes rack the room to find two pairs of dark orbs already looking at him. _Directly._

And why isn’t he surprised when he recognises Jongin?

 

 

 

 

The day after is the worst to him. All he can think about is Jongin’s eyes on him and the indecipherable expression he’s been sporting all the party along. He had felt like throwing up. And they never found the good moment to talk about it. And it’s like something has been broken. Or is it only inside his mind?

For the morning after, when Sehun sees Jongin from afar, he can’t prevent himself from boring holes into his back. However, Jongin never notices. Jongin never turns back. Jongin never acknowledges him. Just like Sehun has always told him to.

And why does he hate it so much right now? 

 

 

 

 

Days pass, and they never talk. They don’t text either. They just stop everything they were doing. Like what happened at the party just broke something. Like Sehun isn’t engraved into Jongin anymore. And that emptiness inside of him is unbearable. The mask is getting thicker, harder to hold onto. 

And Jongin never comes back. But Sehun doesn’t do anything to change it either. 

Also, there’s those guys hanging out with Jongin, holding Jongin’s arms. Laughing with him, making him smile. And Sehun feels like burning, from the inside, crying at nights because he feels helpless, hopeless, and miserably lonely. Why can’t he let his pride aside and go back to Jongin? Apologize? But does he need to apologize? He hasn’t done anything wrong, they’ve never been together in the first place. 

And he goes back to his first state of indifference. Of hating to Jongin, like he’s the plague, when, really, all he needs is him. When all you can see in his cells has Jongin’s name written in it.

 

 

 

 

Days pass by, and seem monotone. Sehun doesn’t avoid Chanyeol but doesn’t talk either. Doesn’t pretend anymore. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t answer. He’s there, and that’s it. He hates the distance, hates that his absence is so visible, so essential to him. Hates it that even when he doesn’t want to, the first thing he does when arriving at college, is to look for him. And he hates it more when he finds him and spends minutes staring at him. 

What he doesn’t expect though – especially after spending so meaningless nights – is for Jongin to corner him during the gym’s class. Everyone is watching as he places his hand just beside Sehun’s head. He’s staring at him. So intently Sehun feels like melting, like drowning, like not being himself anymore. 

“Is it going to continue like this for awhile?”

Sehun blinks confused eyes at him and frowns.

“Who’s the one avoiding the other?” He spits back. “And why are you talking to me in here? Are you insan—“

He bangs his hand just beside Sehun’s head and he flinches, afraid he might slap him. But never does it. 

“I’m fucking _tired_ of hiding, Sehuna. I hate that we don’t talk, hate that you don’t need me anymore. Why are you doing this to me? I thought you could tell me everything.”

“Why didn’t you come back then?” He can’t prevent himself from sounding defensive. 

“You haven’t contacted me either. You kept ignoring _me_ when I’ve never done anything wrong.”

“It’s always my fault, isn’t it?!” Sehun hates that. Hates that he keeps being at fault, when he knows he is and Jongin just points it out. And he’s about to argue more about it when someone comes into view, grabbing Jongin’s wrist so harshly he might have hurt him.

“Who do you think you are, you little filthy fag?!” Comes the roar.

Chanyeol. 

Sehun should’ve known that talking in here was a bad idea. But now everything was going to go hell down. And Chanyeol wasn’t going to help it. Chanyeol never liked Jongin, and all he needed was a reason to hit him. And that’s what he does. He punches Jongin in the face and the latter staggers backward, bringing a hand to his mouth where a dark liquid is starting to ooze, already smearing his fingers.

Jongin is bleeding. And it’s his fault. 

Chanyeol grabs a handful of his shirt and holds him up to his eyes level. Jongin doesn’t fight back and Sehun wants to throw up. Jongin doesn’t even hold Chanyeol’s gaze. The only person he’s watching is Sehun. And Chanyeol is quick to make one and one.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do with Sehun, but I’m not gonna let you tarnish him. So you better stay away from any of us, you filthy whore.”

And with that, he pushes him back. And Jongin collapses to the ground without much of a complaint. He groans when trying to stand up but that’s all. 

Sehun is petrified, his eyes locked onto Jongin’s wobbling figure. All because of him. It’s all his fault. And why can’t he move a single finger? Why can’t he make it stop? Why does it have to be like this? He feels Chanyeol’s hands wrap around his waist and pulling him somewhere. Far from Jongin. 

The latter raises his head and watches him walk away.

“Sehun…”

Sehun just closes his eyes. And pretends like nothing has happened. 

In a world like this, Sehun can’t be in love with Jongin. And Jongin can never heal him. Sehun is only safe thanks to his mask. A mask that hides his other half, the one no one has ever seen. That ugly side of him he thought he started to cope with. 

But who was he kidding?

 

 

 

 

Days transform into weeks. 

Jongin is nowhere to be seen. And Sehun has stopped paying attention. He’s kept prisoner in his own misery, in his own lies, in his own fate. And he knows it won’t last before he’ll break down. Jongin avoids him. Jongin doesn’t answer any of his texts. 

And Sehun does what he does best, he gives up.

He stops sending messages, stops looking for Jongin, stops hoping, stops holding onto the mask. It flickers. It’s uncertain. One day, he smiles. The other, he’s scratching at his face, wishing he could rip it out. 

But he never does.

And he goes back to the first day. And restart. 

Nothing really changes, actually. It only gets worse. It never gets numb. Never gets better. Never gets to something. It’s only him, him and his lies. And nothing else.

_Nothing at all._

 

 

 

 

Sehun is wandering in and out of life. Wondering if there’s still something left when the best thing he could ever have has disappeared. _Vanished._

Sehun doesn’t want to lie anymore. Doesn’t want to pretend anymore. He comes back home, hoping he could lay everything down, all that he is. But life has its own sense of humour he’ll never understand. 

That day, he comes back home early and his mother is waiting for him, inside his room, seated on his bed. He doesn’t bother wondering why she’s there. He just sits and waits. And she’s not long at spilling the beans, never beating around the bush. 

“I want you to move out tonight. Before you dad comes back home and I tell him the truth.”

What truth? he wants to ask. Is there still a truth when everything is shattered? When all his life he has never stopped lying, pretending to be someone else. He frowns though and raises a brow, confused.

“What… do you mean?”

She just throws a piece of paper to him and when he reaches out to grab it, he fully remembers what it is. It’s a picture of Jongin and him. And they’re kissing. He smiles ruefully and regrets never enjoying the few moments the older gave him. 

“I don’t know since when you’re hiding this, but I’m not tolerating this under my roof. I want you out, and you should be lucky I’m the one who’s found out and not your father.”

Sehun doesn’t say anything back. 

“Is that it? Do you have something else to tell me before I’m leaving?”

“I’m ashamed…. Of having you as my son. You could have everything you wanted but you just decide to throw it away for… this insanity.”

“He’s been the sanest thing in my life.”

A tear drops, and it’s not Sehun’s. It glides alongside his mother’s cheek at painfully slow motion. His mother slaps him the same moment she raises to her feet and orders him to get out. He shrugs and grabs his things before heading out. He never looks back, not even once, holding onto the picture of Jongin and him like his life depends on it. 

 

 

 

 

Kicked out is not the worst thing he’s ever to experience. Maybe it’s his next move. When he goes to Chanyeol’s house and expects him to understand him. How naïve can he get? Sehun discovers it when he spills the beans to his friend and the latter lets his beer drop to the ground. He doesn’t bother about what is spilling out.

“You better get out of here, too, Sehun.” Is what he says eventually, his face drained out of blood. “And never come back.”

“Why am I not surprised? Is that what all our friendship means to you?”

“What friendship? Have you seen yourself, Sehun? You’re a fag, a nature’s aberration. You could be everything but you just chose the hardest way.”

“I’ve never had a choice to begin with, Chanyeol. And if you think so, then you’re lacking some neurones up there.”

Chanyeol purses his lips, setting his jaw and grabs Sehun by the collar to push him to his door.

“I’m not gonna hit you, only on the name of our past friendship. Now, get out.”

 _What friendship?_ What kind of friendship comes to an end because one of them is gay? Was it friendship to begin with?

Sehun leaves and never comes back.

 

 

 

 

Sehun spends hours wandering in the streets, aimlessly. Lost. Alone. Desperately lonely. People throw him a funny look from time to time when he keeps staring at them. He isn’t even sad. He doesn’t realize, he guess. It’s like floating, not playing anymore in his own play, but watching from afar.

When night comes, he decides to go inside a bar and drink something. Just to forget. Just for tonight. After that, he’ll forget, he tells himself. So he does just that. Grabs a seat inside the first bar he’s met with, and sits. He orders his drink and waits. He only takes note of his surrounding when a familiar figure draws his attention in.

Deep dimples and a sincere smile are grazing his face. Yixing spots him the moment Sehun looks him up and down. 

“Sehun?” The Chinese asks, disbelieving. “What are you doing here?”

“What? One can’t go out and drink?”

“No… I mean, it’s a gay bar.”

Sehun stops into his tracks and blinks confused eyes up at the other. He starts panicking before reality dawns upon him. And a smile replaces the signs of his previous panic. His parents already know and they’ve taken their position about it. And Chanyeol. Well, Chanyeol has made it crystal clear he doesn’t want to get involved with any of his business anymore. 

“I can drink wherever I want, can’t I?” Sehun asks back. Yixing frowns, and then shrugs.

“Thought you didn’t want to be associated with us, the _dickwhores_.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“Chanyeol has.”

“I’m not him.”

“But you didn’t say take my defence either.”

Silence befalls them and Sehun knows Yixing is right. And he’s about to apologize, it’s the moment to do it. He still remembers the day Chanyeol has spat at his face, recalls exactly how tears-filled his eyes were. But he can’t utter any word for a third person comes into view and grabs Yixing by the wrist.

“Let’s go, Xing, I’m tired. I have rehearsal tomorrow.”

Sehun feels like throwing up again. In front of him… is Jongin. His eyes can’t stop staring at him, it’s like magnetism. Jongin is everything his focus is on. Jongin is what makes him breathe again. Except that Jongin doesn’t watch him. Doesn’t look back. Doesn’t feel the magnetism because Sehun has broken off the link. 

_Never._

Jongin pulls at Yixing wrist and the latter lets him do. Never protests. 

And they both leave the place. Leave Sehun behind. They just leave. 

 

 

 

 

Sehun is walking on the sidewalk, not even bothering to look where he’s going to. Nobody really pay him attention, let him wander. Let him get lost. And reach the point of no return. He’s aimless. Restless. And deeply depressed. Void of any goal. 

Void. 

He gets near of the bridge not far from his house, and even though the idea of jumping is tempting, he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t want to make it end like that. 

Crossing the road means joining his other half. Crossing the road means going half way to him. Retrieving a piece of himself he thought he has lost forever. That’s what it felt like to be with Jongin. That’s why when Sehun crosses the road, not bothering to watch if there’s someone coming, he only sees the brightness that blinds him.

And for a moment he thinks he sees him. Jongin’s smile.  
Not half Sehun nor half Jongin.  
Just him. Only _him_. 

It all blackens after that.

 

 

 

 

Living is hard, dying is easy. And it’s a battle he can’t fight.

When Sehun opens his eyes, the brightness of the room reminds him painfully of the last image he had before closing them. Only this time it hurts. It all feels foreign. Unwelcomed. The acknowledgment, later on, that he’s inside a room of hospital doesn’t help him feel at ease.

He’s alone. 

And when the doctors tell him he’s almost died – _Almost_ – he wants to laugh.

Jongin isn’t a figment of his imagination the moment the sun-kissed boy enters the room and makes it to the bed and sits there, on the chair beside him. Sehun wishes he had him closer but doesn’t utter a word. He keeps staring at him and wonders. Why does Jongin still bother visiting? Why does Jongin always appear when he thinks he’s lost him forever? When he thinks he’s lost himself to the point of no return?

“Your mother called me.” He informs him, crossing his arms on his chest. “They came to pay the bill and left without seeing you.”

Sehun wants to cry but instead ends up laughing. A raw laugh. 

“I’m such a waste of time, right?”

“Listen, Sehun, after all that happened, I just—“

“No, you listen,” Sehun cuts in. “I don’t know why you came anyway when nothing forced you too. It wasn’t an accident, I _wanted_ this.”

Realization dawns upon Jongin and his eyes grow bigger. He faces Sehun with a mix of horror and hurt inside his eyes. 

“S-Sehun… I’m sorry… I should’ve understood sooner.”

“Wait—what? Why are you apologizing? You didn’t hear what I told you? I’m the only one to blame here. I didn’t even succeed at this. Even death doesn’t want me, how much more miserable can I get, uh? I wanted it to end, I was sick of living, Jongin, sick of lying. Tired of pretending.”

He draws a shaky breath in and smiles.

“I guess that’s my fate. I’ll have to face life and suffer through all of it.”

Jongin doesn’t let him say anything else, he grabs him by the neck and hugs him. Hugs him so tight his ribs protest but Sehun doesn’t care. He has never wanted to be somewhere else than inside Jongin’s arms before. That’s the best place in the world.

“We’ll work this out, Sehun. I’m never gonna leave you, remember? I told you.”

 

 

 

 

Three weeks later, Sehun is discharged from hospital. 

He steps a foot inside Jongin’s house and everything feels foreign to him yet so familiar. So Jongin. So welcoming.

 

 

 

 

Starting anew is hard. Especially when all he’s been believing in is all a lie, and he has to forget about it. The first weeks were spent crying his soul out. Crying his failed suicide attempt, crying for his lost parents, for his lost past life. He cries and cries, cries so much he wonders how he still can shed tears even weeks later. 

His mother comes visit him, unexpectedly. And when he thought of a kind of redemption, all he sees is resignation. She’s only bringing him all his belongings, where they should remain. Because he’s not their son anymore. 

“Don’t try to contact us, Sehun. To us, you’re dead. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from what you became.”

That’s her last words to him before leaving. 

The night after, he spends it crying. And her words keep cutting him deep, because pretend all he might, he’ll never get over the fact that he lost his parents over something he has no control. Over something he tried so hard to hide. In vain. All to waste. 

The morning after that, still having not eaten anything, he wanders inside the whole house and never utters a word. Jongin’s parents are so understanding, he cries every time they have a gesture to him, try to help him. Jongin, however, isn’t talking much. Not since that day at the hospital.

He spends some of his time with Sehun, but it’s not like before. But then, nothing can ever be like before, and he knows that too well. What he’s wondering, though, is why Jongin keeps… avoiding him? Not talking to him, because they talk, but they don’t say much. Their discussions are mostly void of any interest, they just ramble, and that’s it. And Sehun is scared Jongin might have forgotten him. And his promise.

 

 

 

One night that Sehun can’t sleep, he decides to sneak into Jongin’s room when his parents aren’t home and lays beside him, on his bed, snuggling to him.

“I’m sorry, Jongin,” he murmurs, unaware if the other is awake, pretending to sleep, or really sleeping. “I’m sorry for all I said, for not thanking you enough for everything you’ve done to me. I don’t want you to forgive me, I know I’m not forgivable, but I just want you to know that you mean the world to me, that nothing is more worth it than you to me. That if I didn’t give up… it’s all because of _you_.”

Silence stretches between them before Jongin turns around and looks at him intently. Like he has always done. During a long time. Like he’s memorizing every detail of Sehun’s features. They lock eyes onto each other’s and they drown themselves. Sehun is sure of it, now. Jongin is his eternity. And nothing will ever alter this. Nothing at all. 

“You don’t know how much you mean to me, either, Sehun.”

“Show me, then.”

Sehun shudders as Jongin leans in and kisses him ever so gently. How he missed this. How he missed Jongin’s lips, their touch, his proximity, his touch. He’s missed him so deep, he forgot he had him deeply engraved. When the kiss deepens, each one of their moans swallowed by the other, they wrap their arms around each other. More and more and more. But never enough. 

Jongin starts drawing lustful patterns with his tongue over his neck, his chest down to his stomach; Sehun squirms as he has never felt so exposed before. But it’s Jongin and he doesn’t mind with him. It has never felt so good with him. Then, Jongin took both of their pants off and Sehun couldn’t bring himself to glance anywhere else but at Jongin’s eyes. They were still the same unwavering dark orbs that looked at him with affection, like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever hold in his life. 

Their lips continue grazing each other’s skin. They kiss, and kiss, until their lips are swollen, red and glistening. It’s flooding everywhere, Sehun thinks. The feelings are overwhelming as he sighs when Jongin touches a bundle of nerves he knows is particularly receptive. He arches his back but Jongin holds him down and kisses him there. 

“… beautiful… worth it, you’re so beautiful.”

When he is eventually ready to let him in, the older pushes so gently into him that Sehun almost doesn’t wince. A faint burn makes its way to him, but has no time to last, Jongin already moving, pulling back and rocking back into him in a steady thrust that washes away all of his fears.

“You’re perfect, Sehuna, so… perfect.” Jongin mumbles, his lips roaming his upper body as he thrusts back in Sehun, bringing him to the edge.

They let the waves of their moment rise until it explodes, spreading in a million of particles. It’s fuzzy, and warm. And so, _so_ good. Sehun doesn’t want to move anywhere else. Jongin’s arms is where he wants to be. Forever. 

That night, Jongin makes love to Sehun and Sehun lets him because he wants it. 

Sehun wants it. The mask has nowhere to stand here.

 

 

 

 

 

Time can only heal Sehun’s scars. The deep ones. The ones nobody sees. The ones clothes can’t hide. Being with Jongin helps him getting better but doesn’t replace the fact that he’s lost his parents, nor his friends, nor a huge part of his life. But he’s still young, and he still can build his dreams. 

They’re still fragile, and he still isn’t sure of their longevity. Not sure if he’ll manage to fight. But he has Jongin, he has his family. He knows he’s not alone, he’s not abandoned. And yet, he’s never felt more… disoriented and confused before. Everything was written and predicted. But now… it’s a whole new page he has to write. Only if he wants it to. 

And that’s the problem, he doesn’t know about it. Doesn’t know what he wishes, what is best for him. 

Yet, there’s still something he can hold onto. Jongin is there. Jongin _is_ his reality and he’s glad he has him. Glad that out of all the things he lost, Jongin is the only one that remained unchanged. That remained, at all. He can believe in the future, in what it holds for him, what it has to offer to him. And when the day comes when he can say he’s fine without feeling the remnants of his mask, he’ll know he succeeded.

For now, as long he’s holding Jongin’s hand, it’s okay. It has always been, but it has taken him a moment to realize it. 

It’s okay, and he believes it.

 

 

 

 

 

“I haven’t told you, right?”

Sehun turns his head sideways only to be greeted with the best view ever. Jongin is smiling at him and he arches a brow. “What?”

“That I love you.”

He hasn't told him, indeed, but, deep down, he's always felt it.


End file.
